Secrets
by madeleine68
Summary: The SVU squad is handed a case that hits a little too close to home for Alex in more ways than one. A/O THE LAST CHAPTER IS UP! Please review.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: We all know the drill. Nothing and nobody is mine. Such is life. Everything and everyone belongs to Dick Wolf.**

**I'm not exactly sure if I'm going to make this a friendship story or a romance yet, so I left it as friendship just to be safe. This was just a random idea that I had. Sorry it's so short; the next ones will be longer. Enjoy!**

Her head is resting on her desk when I enter her office. She's sound asleep. She looks so peaceful in slumber, unlike the icy poise she displays on a daily basis. Her blonde hair, usually so perfect, is disheveled, spilling onto her desk and giving her the illusion of being something ethereal, like an angel. Or maybe not such an illusion after all.

I know she's worn out from today's case and she's been working here for at least seven hours straight – it's two in the morning – but there's something I need to tell her, and so I shake her gently awake. "Alex."

She stirs and glances up at me, rubbing her clear blue eyes. "Liv." She squints and stifles a yawn. "Sorry, I must have fallen asleep. What is it?"

I don't want to have to tell her this, but I know I need to. Better she finds out from me now than someone else later, and be hurt all over again because I didn't care enough about her to tell her the truth. "Your sister."

"Jenna?" She yawns again and covers her mouth with her hand. "What about her?"

"Not Jenna."

It isn't easy to tell things like this to victims, but it's near impossible to tell them to friends. I know I'm hedging, and I know she can tell – even in her semiconscious state, she's perceptive as ever and sharp as a tack. I never beat around the bush like this, but this is _Alex_.

"What are you talking about?" she snaps. "I don't _have _another sister. There's Jenna and there's me. What have you been smoking?"

I sigh, trying to figure out how to put this, then deciding there's no easy way and I might as well just come out with it. "You haven't been in touch with your father, Alex. He got remarried awhile ago. You had another sister. Her name was Claire. She was eight."

Alex blinks, then stares at me with a blank expression on her face. I can tell she's still half asleep and has no idea what I'm talking about. "There's a reason why I haven't been –" Then she stops and I can tell my last words have just registered. "I _had _another sister?"

I nod, wishing I didn't have to tell her this. "She's dead, Alex. I thought you should know."

**So . . . leaving you with questions, questions, questions! Would you like some answers? Review for chapter two!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all the reviews! They make my day. And I decided to make it A/O romance! Well, in later chapters. Something to look forward to.**

I watch Alex's ashen skin go even paler and she's suddenly wide awake. If I didn't know better, I would have thought the expression the ice queen is wearing on her face was fear. But Alex Cabot doesn't get scared. At least, not of cases. She's used to them. "How?" she whispers, and again, if I didn't know better I would have thought the slight tremor in her voice signaled something more than exhaustion from a long day.

"She was murdered," I tell her, wishing I could just sink into the ground. The expression in those bottomless blue eyes is pure sadness, and something else I can't put my finger on, because I've never seen it on her face before.

But she replaces her mask just as easily as it's slipped, clearly not wanting to be seen as vulnerable for more than a few seconds at a time. In a clear, emotionless voice, she asks, "Was she abused?"

For a second, I wonder how she guessed, or if she even did. Deciding not to focus on it and instead worry about the issue at hand, I only hesitate a moment before replying, "Yes."

"Sexually?"

I wonder how she can be so cool about it. This is her _sister_, after all, even if the two never met. If I had a sister out there somewhere that I didn't know about, I'd feel horrible if she's died. "Yes."

"Physically?"

I nod again.

She sighs. "Who?"

"We don't know." I pause for a moment. "Do you?"

Something flashes in her eyes and she stands up rather abruptly. "I should go, Liv. It's two in the morning. Thank you for telling me." She grabs her coat and starts to hurry out of her office, then on an afterthought turns back. "Does Jenna know?"

"We told her earlier."

"Did she know about – Claire?"

I shake my head. "She wasn't in touch with your father either." Then I feel a bit sheepish. Why am _I_ telling _Alex_? She obviously knows already, better than I do.

"I'll call her," she says, more to herself than to me. "I'll see you later, Liv."

And she rushes out of her office, leaving me staring after her, wondering what just transpired. I don't like to think about her this way, but it's crystal clear that Alex Cabot is hiding something from me. The only question is _why_.

Elliot arrives five minutes late to the precinct the next morning and I'm ready to bite his head off. Sleep deprivation leaves me very testy, but I couldn't manage to fall asleep last night. Instead, I lay awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering about Alex. "You're late," I snap at him, running a hand through my hair.

"Whoa," he says, handing me a cup of coffee. "I forgot how grumpy you are before your morning caffeine."

I snatch the cup from his hand and take a sip. "It's cold."

"And you're just a real ray of sunshine this morning, aren't you?" he says sarcastically.

I sigh. "Sorry, El. It's just this case . . . Alex."

"We should talk to her," he tells me. "She knows her sister best of all."

I shake my head. "She didn't even know she _had _a sister. She hasn't seen her father in years. He's remarried and she didn't know."

"Why?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

"Then let's go talk to her."

"Elliot, this is _Alex_. Our ADA. And our friend. I have a feeling she's not going to want to talk to us and I'm not going to push her."

"Then what do _you _suggest, brilliant one?"

Hmm, good question. I know Alex won't be too pleased about us going to talk to her sister without telling her first, but I'm willing to bear the ice queen's wrath if it will help our case. "We should go talk to her sister," I tell him. "Jenna."

"Okay," he agrees. _Well, that was easy. _He pulls his coat back on. "I'll drive."

"No, you won't." I climb into the driver's seat and key the ignition, just to be adversarial. "I will."

Alex's sister, who is five years her junior, is her carbon copy. Only younger. And happier. Laugh lines are evident on her face and her apartment is the polar opposite of her sister's. Alex's apartment is tastefully decorated, sophisticated and chic without being over the top, and neat as a pin. Jenna's is a mess and half-finished paintings are strewn about. Jenna is an artist – or at least, an _aspiring _artist who hasn't quite got on her feet yet, or so she told me the last time Alex and I met her for lunch. Alex has invited me out with her and her sister a few times, so we know each other, even though we're not close.

I knock on the door to Jenna's apartment and she answers it, giving me a sad smile when she sees me. "Hi, Olivia. Elliot." She steps aside so we can come in and I notice how pale her face is and the dark bags under her eyes. She looks like she hasn't slept in about a week.

Elliot and I sit down on her living room couch. She brushes a few magazines aside before taking a seat across from us. She folds her hands in her lap and waits expectantly.

I clear my throat, not knowing exactly how to ask this. "We were hoping you could answer a few questions for us."

She nods, looking a bit uneasy. "Okay, but I'm not sure how much help I'm going to be. I never knew Claire. I didn't even know I _had_ another sister. I haven't spoken to – to my father in years."

I lean forward, struck by the awkwardness of this situation. Here I am, asking my colleague (and best friend's) sister about her father, when really, I should be asking Alex. No, really, I shouldn't _need _to. I should just know already. "Why is that?"

Jenna shifts uncomfortably. "Does it matter?"

_Great. Another Alex. _"Well, Jenna, we think it might."

"We just didn't get along," she replies, but it's evident that she's not being entirely honest.

"Is that it?"

"Yes," she says, too quickly. "That's it."

"Did your father ever –?"

We all turn around as a door opens and a familiar voice says, "Jenna, do you have any –?"

_Crap. _Alex Cabot is standing in the doorway, a fluffy pink bathrobe that's clearly not hers wrapped around her, and her voice trails off when she notices Elliot and I.

"What are you doing here?" she snaps, glaring at us.

Elliot glances at me and, seeing the expression on my face, stands up and says calmly, "We were asking your sister some questions about your father."

But Alex ignores him and marches over to me. Her baby blue eyes flashing, she says coolly, clearly trying to contain her anger, "If you want to know about my father, you ask me. And if I don't want to tell you, you drop it."

I bite back the, "You're not the boss of me," that's rising in my throat. I understand why she's upset, so I try to keep my voice level as I say, "I'm sorry, Alex, but this is going to help with the investigation. I thought you should get a good night's sleep before we talked to you."

She snorts, which makes me start. I've never seen this side of Alex Cabot before. She's _angry_, really angry, and her ice queen façade is rapidly slipping. "I'm not a child," she says hotly, pointing to the door. "Leave."

I'm trying to be as compassionate as I can, but I just don't understand. The Alex Cabot I know would _never _impede an investigation! "Alex, we can talk to you now or we can talk to you tomorrow, but we _are _going to talk to you. We're trying to find out who killed your sister. I would have thought you'd want to find out the same thing. We're on the same side here."

"No, we're not. Get out. Out!"

I stare at her blankly. _What is she doing? _This is so out of character for Alex that it scares me for a moment.

Elliot's hand on my arm stops me. He shakes his head slightly and I sigh. "Fine. Jenna, call me if you think of anything, okay? You have the number. And Alex, we'll talk to you tomorrow."

"No," she says in a quiet but purposeful tone. "You won't."

I let Elliot gently lead me outside and I don't even object when he climbs into the driver's seat of the car. I'm preoccupied, wondering what on earth has got Alex so spooked.

**So what is Alex scared of? What is she hiding and why? Review to find out!**


	3. Chapter 3

Elliot and I trek down to see Melinda now that she's done a more thorough autopsy. We already know that Claire died from a subdural hematoma sustained from a vicious beating and she was sexually abused over a period of time, and we saw the bruises that covered the little girl's tiny body. It's hard to look at the body because the child bears such a striking resemblance to Alex; in fact, I've seen pictures of Alex as a child and they are almost identical, even though they are technically only half-sisters.

"So, what's up, doc?" asks Elliot, clearly trying to alleviate the tension in the room.

"The girl was beaten over a period of time," Melinda tells us. "There are healed arm fractures and she has a few broken ribs, all of which were broken two to three weeks ago, consistent with being kicked. She has cigarette burns on her right arm and you saw the bruises. This girl was tortured."

Elliot and I exchange glances. "Thanks, Melinda," I say, the wheels in my head spinning a million miles an hour, wondering what this means.

* * *

We go back to the house where Alex's father and stepmother live, to interview them again. Even though I'm hoping against hope that there's another explanation, the pieces are starting to fall into place. So that's how Elliot and I end sitting with Lena and George Cabot in their family room an hour later. George is holding Lena's hands in his and has one arm wrapped protectively around her. _Or possessively._

"Mr. Cabot, our medical examiner found evidence of long-term physical abuse on your daughter's body," Elliot tells him. "Do you have any idea what happened to her?"

He shrugs. "She was always a clumsy child. Accident-prone, but very active. She broke her arm a few weeks ago falling off her bike."

"Aside from you and your wife, was there anyone else who spent a lot of time with her?"

"Her teachers, her grandparents . . . mostly just us," George replies.

Elliot nods. "Could you tell us again what happened yesterday – for the record?"

"I got home from work around six, like I always do," he says. "Lena was in the shower and I went to look for Claire. I found her lying on the floor of her room, covered in blood. She wasn't breathing. I thought someone might have broken in. I called the police."

"Mrs. Cabot, do _you _know how Claire got hurt?"

Lena shakes her head, but I can tell she's lying, and I interject, "Mr. Cabot, did you ever hit Claire?"

He shakes his head indignantly. "I loved my daughter!"

"You never spanked her?" I press.

"Sometimes kids are hard to deal with," sympathizes Elliot. "Are you sure you never just lost it and gave her a smack?"

"No," he says firmly. "Never."

Feeling slightly uncomfortable at having to ask, I ask, "Why are you out of touch with your other daughters?"

George shrugs. "They're busy, I'm busy. We're not close. We never were."

"You know, my brother is coming over in a few moments and I need to clean up the house," cuts in Lena quietly.

Elliot and I exchange glances. He hands George Cabot his business card. "Thank you for your time," he says. "Call us if you think of anything else."

We get up and walk out the door. On our way down to the car, Elliot turns to look at me. "Well, they're _definitely _not hiding anything."

"They're Alex's parents."

"They're _suspects_."

I shrug.

"Anyway, we need to talk to Alex. She knows her father better than anyone and I have a bad feeling about the guy."

"She's not going to want to talk to us."

"She trusts you, Liv. Why don't you talk to her one-on-one?"

I sigh. "I'll try."

* * *

I invite Alex over to my apartment that evening, fully expecting that she'll decline. Surprisingly, she doesn't. And even more surprisingly, the first thing she says when she arrives is, "Liv, I'm sorry about earlier. I was upset."

_Well. That's new. _I've never heard Alex genuinely apologize for _anything _before! "That's okay. I understand."

She manages a small smile, twisting her limp blonde hair into a messy bun. She looks downright exhausted and I wish that the invitation I'd extended to her had no ulterior motives. But honestly, I need to know about her father and this is how to do it.

We order in Chinese food and silently munch on chicken balls and noodles. Well, _I _eat, she just picks at her food. Finally, she wraps up the remaining food and puts it in my fridge. "What do you _eat_, Liv?" she asks, the first hint of any emotion that I've seen all night. "Your fridge is practically empty."

"You know, there's this amazing thing known as take-out," I tell her.

She rolls her eyes.

"Well, I'm sure your fridge is stocked full with vegetables and fruits and milk that didn't go bad a month ago. All organic, of course."

There it is, the beautiful smile that I've been waiting all night for. Breathing a sigh of relief, I flip on the television and start aimlessly changing channels. Alex perches on the couch beside me and wraps herself in a blanket. The tension in the air is so thick that you could cut it with a knife, but I know I have to ask her the next question, much as I don't want to. "What are you so scared of, Alex?"

Her head snaps to the side so her bottomless blue eyes are locked on mine. "I'm leaving," she says deliberately, getting to her feet and folding the blanket. In typical Alex fashion, anything less than organized and pristine is unacceptable, and every time she comes to my apartment she either cleans it or badgers me about cleaning it.

"Alex, wait!" I call after her, but she whirls around, her eyes flashing.

"No, Liv. You asked me to come over because you wanted to weasel information out of me. That's not how we work."

I watch her storm out, helpless to stop her. I know I've brought this on myself.

**Hmm . . . what's wrong with Alex? Review to find out!**


	4. Chapter 4

"So, how did it go with Cabot?" asks Elliot as I walk into the precinct the next morning.

Groaning, I flop down at my desk and shake my head.

"That bad?"

I nod, taking a sip of coffee. _Ah, the energy to start my day_. "So what's plan B, Einstein?"

"We go back to Jenna."

"She's just as uncooperative as Alex," I remind him. It feels so strange to be talking about my best friend in these terms, like she's a witness. Which she might be.

"Do you want my opinion?" he asks. I don't, but I nod anyway, and he says, "The father did it. He abused that little girl and he killed her. We're just dotting our i's."

"That's your _opinion_." I don't want to admit that this might be true, to consider the potential repercussions and implications of such a revelation. Child molesters and abusers don't usually choose just one child. It's not unheard of, but it's very uncommon.

My mind is racing a million miles an hour. Alex has never discussed her childhood before and she's never said a word about her father. Could this be why? Poor Alex!

But then . . . I'm not going to speculate about my best friend. If something did happen and she wants to tell me about it, fine. If something didn't happen, that's fine too. If something happened and she doesn't want to tell me about it, I may not like it, but that's her choice. I'm not going to ruin our friendship by feeling sorry for her or pushing her to tell me something she doesn't feel comfortable talking about. I know how hard it is for victims to open up to people . . . but this is exactly what I don't want. I can't start thinking about my Alex as a victim. Because the Alex Cabot I know is anything _but_.

"I don't feel comfortable investigating the personal life of our ADA," I tell him. "We should talk to Alex first."

"She's going to stonewall us," Elliot says.

"I know. But I want her to be able to trust us. Otherwise, we'll never be able to work civilly on a case again."

I'm getting out my cell phone when the door to the precinct flies open and the clicking of Alex's high heels signals her arrival. I turn to face her. The expression on her face is blank. Unreadable. "Hey, Alex," I venture.

Ignoring me, she marches toward Captain Cragen's office and raps on his door. He opens the door and lets her in, then shuts it again to obstruct our view.

I stare at the closed door for what feels like an eternity, until Alex comes out. There's something in her eyes that scares me, an almost deadened look. "I'm off the case," she says sharply. "I talked to Liz and cleared it with Cragen. Abbie's going to prosecute."

"Alex," says Elliot. "We need to talk to you."

"No, you don't," she replies, her blue eyes flashing as she turns on her heel and stalks away.

The realization dawns in Elliot's eyes and I can see he's put two and two together. He looks at me.

"We can do it without her," I tell him decisively. I'm not going to ruin the friendship I have with Alex for any reason.

He raises an eyebrow, but surprisingly, nods his head. "Okay. Let's arrest the bastard."

* * *

Two hours later, Lena Cabot is sitting in one interrogation room and George Cabot is sitting in the other. I'm pacing the hallway, watching him through the one-way glass and wondering for the millionth time how monsters can blend in so easily. I want to kill him for hurting my friend.

But then, maybe what he did to her has made Alex who she is today. She's the strongest person I know, and she dedicates her life to helping the victims. We all do, I guess, but with her, it's different. She does it with such passion, dedicating her life (or lack thereof) to the job, yet she never lets that fervor override her ethics. She always looks at the bigger picture and sees things that Elliot and I don't, which is how she's helped so many more people than I ever will.

Elliot taps me on the shoulder. "You take him, I'll deal with her."

Bracing myself, I nod and enter the interrogation room. George Cabot is sitting with his hands folded nonchalantly in front of him. He glances at me with polite interest. "Honey, could you get me a diet soda?"

"I'm not here for your convenience," I snarl.

He shrugs. "Fine. Can I go now?"

"No," I tell him, sitting down across the table from him. "You can't. You're under arrest for the murder of your daughter."

"Which one?"

_Smug bastard. _"Claire. Do you have any other dead daughters I should know about?"

He shrugs again, a half-smirk on his face. "I didn't kill my little girl."

"If you confess now, things will be easier for you in the long run."

"You can leave now," he tells me.

I'd love to, but I can't. "You beat her and you raped her and you killed her. End of story. You're going to jail for a long, long time, and then you'll see how it feels to be your daughter!"

He isn't fazed. "Jen and Lexi love me. They'll tell you."

"Her name is _Alex_," I growl.

George raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Oh, you know her then?"

"Yes," I tell him, not bothering to elaborate.

"Didn't she tell you just how much I – _loved _her?" He licks his lips and I curl my hands into fists. He hasn't said it outright but the implication is clear. It's all I can do not to smack the smug grin off the bastard's face, but I restrain myself.

"She did," I bluff, forcing my voice to remain level.

He smirks. "Then why aren't you arresting me for that?"

His admission – or _almost _admission – leaves a nasty taste in my mouth, and suddenly I feel like I'm going to be sick. "We'll talk later," I snarl. Getting to my feet, I bolt from the room.

Standing with her arms folded, watching George Cabot in the interrogation room, is Alex. _As if this could get any worse. _I feel like sinking into the floor when I realize that she's trembling. I've never seen my Alex vulnerable like this before. "What are you doing here?" I ask her, trying to mask my surprise.

She turns on me, wrapping her arms around herself in a futile attempt to calm her body. "I could be asking you the same question about _him_."

"He killed his eight-year-old, Alex. Your half-sister. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"We are not trying this case at the expense of my reputation," she says coldly, as if it's a statement of fact, as if no one else has any say in the matter.

"You did nothing wrong."

She turns back to the one-way glass, and her body's shuddering increases exponentially. It's tearing my heart out to see her like this and I rest my hands gently on her shoulders, trying to comfort her.

She flinches and pulls away from me, her blue eyes flashing as she whirls around. "Don't _touch _me!"

I pull my hand away as if it's been burned. "I'm sorry."

The fire drains from her eyes and she sighs, stepping back. In a much quieter, more businesslike voice, she says, "There's a five year statute of limitations on rape. You can't touch him."

"I know," I tell her, matching her even tone. "I wish we could, though. I'd like to see him rot in jail for what he did to you."

She sighs again and I worry for a moment that I've overstepped my bounds and she's going to push me away. But she doesn't. Instead, she crosses her arms as another shiver ripples through her body. "I tried to be a good sister," she says softly. "I tried to protect Jenna. But sometimes I just couldn't be there."

"I know," I assure her, wanting so much to take her hand but knowing I can't. "It's not your fault."

She meets my eyes, locking her baby blues onto mine. "I want to put him away for what he did. I'll tell Abbie I changed my mind. I can do this."

I manage a small smile. "You can."

**So . . . would you like the next installment? Review if you would!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning for explicit content. Reader discretion is advised.**

I get the call at three in the morning. Assuming we've caught another case, I roll over and answer my phone with a groggy, "Benson."

"Liv?" says an uncertain voice that makes my heart stop. _Alex._

"What's the matter?" I ask, sitting bolt upright in bed.

"I couldn't sleep," she says softly.

"I know. Today was really stressful."

I can tell she's rolling her eyes. "Don't patronize me."

"Sorry," I say immediately. "Hey, why don't you come over to my place? We can be insomniacs together."

"Okay," she whispers, relief evident in her voice. "I'll be there in ten."

"See you in ten," I echo, hanging up the phone.

Groaning, I jump out of bed and throw a sweatshirt on over the tank top I was sleeping in. I rake my fingers through my matted hair and finally give up, pulling it back into a ponytail. I'm not exactly sure why, but I want to look good for Alex.

She rings the doorbell approximately ten minutes later and I open the door. She's a mess, her blonde hair hanging limply over her face. The dark bags under her eyes make it look as if she hasn't slept in about a year and she's wearing an oversized long sleeved t-shirt and sweatpants. I've never seen her dressed down like this before. "Come in," I invite her, stepping aside.

She mutely follows me into the living room and curls up on one edge of the couch, covering herself with a blanket.

I sit down beside her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she says softly, but the choked-up quality of her voice belies her next statement. "I'm fine."

"Okay," I agree, even though I know she's lying. She's trying to be brave and not show me her vulnerability.

She sighs, wrapping her arms around herself. Resting her head on the armrest of my couch, she whispers, "Liv?"

"Yeah?"

She stares at her hands. "I'm sorry."

This time I can't help myself. I reach out and envelop her in a hug. She flinches at first at the unexpected touch, but then leans into it, letting out a shuddering sigh. "You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetie."

Her head snaps up and she starts to tremble, her blue eyes endless pools of fear.

For a moment, I'm confused, wondering what I did wrong. But then I realize my mistake and mentally kick myself. Massaging her back comfortingly, I correct myself. "Alex. I would never hurt you, Alex. You never need to worry."

She sighs, the tension in her body dissipating slightly. "I know. It's been twenty years and it's just hard. Remembering."

I nod and continue to rub soothing circles into her back. "If you ever want to talk, Alex, I'm here. For _anything_."

Closing her eyes, Alex leans back to rest her head on my shoulder. The action surprises me at first, and I have to wonder whether it's because she wants comfort right now or if it's something more. But now isn't the time to think about things like that.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, my arms wrapped around her, trying to create for Alex the cocoon of safety that she's never had before. I can feel her muscles relaxing and mindlessly run my fingers through her long blonde hair. She looks up in surprise, but doesn't pull away.

Finally, she says in a low voice, "It started when I was four."

My hands still for a moment and I wonder if she's going to tell me about her father. For a second, I wonder if I really want to know, but then I go back to stroking her hair, waiting for her to go on. My pain is worth it if it helps to alleviate some of hers.

"It was innocuous at first," she continues after a moment. "He bathed me, watched me change. Almost but not quite innocent. And then he started to touch me. At night. Or when my mother wasn't home. He came into my room and he would . . ." She takes a deep breath, struggling to keep her voice level. "He raped me. Every night for twelve years. And I never told anyone until now." She sighs and leans into me again, but I know there's more that she wants to say and stay silent. "He hit me when I did something he didn't like. He hit my mother too, and then Jenna." She stares at her lap. "I tried to protect her. I tried to take it for her. And when he started . . . raping . . . her, she told me. And there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to help her, but sometimes he didn't want me. He just wanted _her_. She was younger, prettier. More innocent. He liked that. And sometimes . . ." She lets out a shuddering breath. "Sometimes he wanted both of us. And what Daddy wants, Daddy gets," she adds ruefully.

I blink back the tears rushing to my eyes and hold Alex tighter, pulling her as close as I can and planting a chaste kiss on the crown of her head. I don't say anything. There's nothing to say. Which strikes me as odd, considering I'm always the one with the quick words of comfort for any victim that walks into the precinct.

But this pain runs even deeper, because it's so much more personal. Alex has always been the strong, stoic one, the logical one who doesn't let her emotions dictate her actions. I've always admired that about her. But now, I'm seeing her in a different light. She's _vulnerable_. She's been hurt so much, but if anything, that makes me admire her even more, because she survived. No, more than that. She's _thrived_. She spends her life helping children like she was and does a good job of it too. She's used her circumstances to help others, and I admire that most of all.

Alex leans into me, her frail body still trembling in my arms, and I do my best to soothe her, at the same time trying to hold back my tears. But Alex isn't crying. Her baby blues are clear and dry, as perfect as ever.

And then I understand. Her well of tears ran dry long ago.

**So . . . here was the start of the A/O you were all waiting for. Did you like it? Review for more!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I know this is a relatively short one, but I wanted to leave you with an evil cliffie. Mwahaha!**

Alex falls asleep in my arms. I let her stay like that, thinking she needs the comfort right now. Then I take a moment to fully appreciate our position. Even though we've been brought together by the worst of circumstances, this is what I've wanted for so long. I've hardly dared to hope that someday Alex would be here, spending the night with me. Maybe it's time for me to admit it to myself – I love her. And I would do anything to prevent her from bearing any more pain.

I feel her start to stir and gently brush a few strands of hair away from her face. "You okay?"

She nods, sitting up straight again. The vulnerability that I'd glimpsed mere hours before has once again been replaced with her mask of indifference. The ice queen is back. Which is a shame, because much as I love the ice queen, I love Alex Cabot more. "I should go," she says quietly.

My heart starts to race as I wonder what I did wrong. I don't want her to leave. I want her to stay here with me – preferably forever, but the next few hours will suffice. "Stay," I whisper back, the words sounding more like a desperate plea than I would have liked.

The mask slips for a moment and I see something flash in her eyes, but she replaces it almost immediately. "I need to prepare for the case."

"Are you sure?" I don't know if I'm asking whether she's sure she has to go or whether she's sure she wants to prosecute the case. Maybe a little of both.

There's a split second of hesitation, but then she nods. "I'll see you later, okay?"

I watch as she gets up, folds up my blanket, and slips on her shoes. I wonder if she remembers the events of the past few hours or if she's just choosing to disregard them.

As she opens the door to leave, she glances back over her shoulder. "Liv?"

My heart skips a beat. "Yeah?"

Her eyes soften and she says quietly, "Thank you."

_Oh._

* * *

Now that I know the truth, I'm wondering if I wanted it after all. It was too late to transport George Cabot to Rikers yesterday, so he's still at the precinct, and I have a good mind to kill him with my bare hands before anyone else arrives. I could do it. Easily. Because when Liv gets pissed, the adrenaline pumps, and she's unstoppable.

Not exactly sure of my motives, I throw on jeans and a sweater, get into my car, and drive down the precinct, unmindful of the fact that it's 6:30 in the morning. I love driving this early because there isn't any traffic – or slightly less than during the day, anyway.

Parking the car, I drop my keys in my pocket and jog inside the precinct. Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I start for the interrogation room.

But I stop at the sound of voices. Vaguely, I wonder if Elliot's gotten here before me and he's back at it with George Cabot. But glancing through the one-way glass, I see that it isn't Elliot sitting across from George. It's Alex.

**So what is Alex doing there? Do you want to find out? Review if you do!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Again, I know this one's crazy short, but I thought it stood best alone. For this chapter and the next, allow a slight suspension of disbelief. I know in real life, Alex would not be able to prosecute this case because of the clear conflict of interest. Allow me some poetic license here.**

I have half a mind to rush into the interrogation room and ask Alex what the hell she's doing, but another part of me is morbidly curious, so I stand there watching, wanting to know how this will play out, even though I know even as I do it that I shouldn't.

She looks just as put together as ever, dressed in a no-nonsense business suit, not one strand of blonde hair out of place. I can tell she's trying not to tremble, but the glare she's giving him (which has reduced many murderers and rapists to quivering blobs of jelly) doesn't faze him in the slightest.

"Hello, Lexi," he says calmly after a silence that seems to last forever.

"That's not my name," she snaps, folding her arms.

He looks disappointed. "Since when?"

"Since I was born. My name is _Alexandra_, but my friends call me Alex."

"Fine then, _Alex_."

"_Alexandra_ to you," she fires at him.

I smile to myself. Point one for Alex.

"What happened to my sweet little girl?" he asks, almost sadly.

"You destroyed her," Alex says quietly. "When she was just four years old. You hurt her in ways she didn't even understand. And she blamed herself. But not anymore."

"Lexi, I –"

But the clicking of Alex's heels stops him as she stalks from the room. She doesn't even look surprised to see me standing on the other side of the glass. "Did you enjoy that?"

"Yes, actually, I did. You really gave it to him, Alex," I reply.

She manages a small smile. "I'm really going to give it to him in court. This is nothing."

And just like that, Alex Cabot is back.

**Or is she? How is she going to deal with facing her father in court? Will she be able to go through with it? Review to find out!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I know it's another short one, but bear with me.**

I slide into a seat at the back of the courtroom a week later, making eye contact with Alex, who has an expression of set determination on her face. She's going to send her father to jail for a very long time and nothing's going to stop her. He's on the witness stand, looking perfectly at ease. Although she appears to be just as calm as he is, I see the set of her jaw and the trembling that she's trying to hold back, but can't quite manage to. I know her too well.

She turns away from me and locks eyes with her father. "Mr. Cabot," she says sharply. "Did you ever sexually abuse your daughter, Claire?"

George shakes his head. "Of course not. I loved her."

Alex stares at him for a moment, then I suppose she realizes she's asked the wrong question. "Did you ever have sexual intercourse with her?"

He hesitates. "No."

But we all know he's lying.

"Did you ever sexually abuse any of your daughters?"

"No."

I see Alex's hands curl into fists and I can tell she's trying to rein in her emotions. Wiping her face blank once again, she says, "Mr. Cabot, remember that you are under oath. Lying under oath constitutes perjury, which is a felony."

He smiles in a manner that imitates that of a proud father. "You always did talk down to people, Lexi."

She doesn't blink. "Move to strike."

"Sustained," says Judge Petrovsky, leaning forward. "The jury will disregard."

I glance at Trevor Langan, who's representing George Cabot. He's squinting, clearly trying to figure out what to make of this.

"Mr. Cabot," Alex says quietly. "We both know that's not true."

"Objection!" calls Trevor. "If Ms. Cabot would like to testify, she can call herself to the witness stand."

The judge waves away his objection. "Overruled." She peers down her nose at George. "Sir, please consider your answers to Ms. Cabot's questions very carefully."

"I never sexually abused anyone," he says.

Alex clenches her fists even tighter. "Did you ever have sexual intercourse with your other daughters?"

He cocks his head. "Why are you asking me questions you already know the answers to, Lexi? You always did that."

"Objection!" I can tell that Alex's patience is being worn thin.

"Sustained," snaps Judge Petrovsky. "Mr. Cabot, you need only answer the questions at hand. Leave all personal commentary out of my courtroom."

"Are you sure you never abused any of your daughters?" repeats Alex.

"Objection!" calls Trevor. "Ms. Cabot can ask the same question in as many ways as she likes, but my client's answer is going to remain the same."

"Nothing further," says Alex through clenched teeth.

"The defense rests," says Trevor.

* * *

The jury deliberates for three days before coming back with no verdict. They're hopelessly deadlocked. The look of pure exhaustion and defeat on Alex's face breaks my heart. When Judge Petrovsky declares a mistrial, I know I have to act. I'm back in _Olivia Benson, Everybody's Heroine _mode, but I have to protect my Alex.

As the courtroom clears, I stride toward Alex's father. "George Cabot," I tell him, unable to keep the smugness from my tone as I cuff his hands behind his back. "You are under arrest."

He whirls around with a look of indignation on his face. "For _what_?"

"Perjury. I believe Ms. Cabot warned you about that, _sir_," I say as contemptuously as I can, then proceed to Mirandize him. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

As I herd him out of the courtroom, his lawyer hurrying behind us, I catch Alex's eye. Though she doesn't say a word, I can read the gratitude on her face, loud and clear.

**Would you like the next chapter? Review if you would!**


	9. Chapter 9

**For all the canon sticklers, I know that New York abolished its statute of limitations on rape in 2006, BUT this story takes place during the original Alex years, so around 2002 or so, before the statute of limitations was lifted.**

Alex and I are sitting across from George Cabot and Trevor Langan in the interrogation room. Her face is blank and her back is ramrod straight, but I see the fear behind her mask.

"How are you planning on proving your case, Counselor?" asks Trevor, sounding more amused than put out.

"He lied on the stand," she replies coolly. "That's a federal crime which carries a prison sentence of up to five years."

"How do you know he lied on the stand?"

She pauses, not knowing what to say.

"What did he lie about?"

"Whether or not he sexually abused his daughters."

Trevor shakes his head, a smile quirking his lips upward. "That's a catch 22, Counselor. Mr. Cabot's daughters are over the age of consent and have been for over a decade. Therefore, the statute of limitations from this _alleged _abuse will have run out. You can't try him for the crime, therefore the presumption of innocence dictates that he never abused any child. You can't prove perjury unless you can prove the abuse, and you clearly can't."

"I _know_ it happened," snaps Alex.

"How do you know?" asks Trevor, still amused.

I watch her for a moment, wondering what her answer will be, or even if she'll deign to answer at all. Trevor is the only person in this room who doesn't know about Alex's tumultuous childhood, but I'm sure she doesn't want to tell him.

She opens and closes her mouth before saying in a quiet, measured tone, "He did it to me."

George leaps up and cries, "I never _abused _you, Lexi! I loved you!"

Trevor's expression goes from horrified to relieved and he says, "Well, the statute of limitations expired a long time ago, so you can't touch him. It's your word against his."

Now I want to kill them both and contemplate the best way to do it. Usually, Elliot's the one who takes out his frustrations on the perps, but this is _Alex_. My best friend. And after last week, maybe something more.

Alex sighs. "We're done." She gets up and strides from the room, her posture immaculate as always, the artificial confidence she emanates on a daily basis shining through.

I glare at Trevor and his client for a moment before following her. "Alex!"

She whirls around, her eyes flashing. "Why did you do that, Olivia?"

That stops me in my tracks. "I – I thought that was what you wanted." Then I wince, realizing how stupid that sounds. I don't want to seem like a lovesick puppy, ready to cater to her every whim. But how can she blame me for this?

"I'm not stupid, Detective. I know that you can't prove perjury unless you prove that the witness was lying and _knew_ he was lying. We can't do that and I don't _want _to. Now we look like fools and we have to cut him loose."

I just stare at her, and then I get it. She was just bluffing to get him to talk. She never wanted her childhood trauma exposed, especially in open court, which is what would have to happen to prove perjury. "I'm sorry," I stammer. It's more to appease her than out of any real remorse, because even though I feel bad about what I did, it's not my fault. I tried to do what I thought was right, what I thought she wanted me to do.

"Too late," she snaps, starting to power walk toward the door. "Do you know how _hard _that was for me? And you. _You didn't say a word_."

"I thought you wouldn't want me to," I try to explain, matching my stride to hers. I'm not sure whether I'm defending myself or justifying my actions or just telling her how it was, but it's true. Alex never likes it when she thinks I'm trying to protect her. She says she can take care of herself. Maybe she can and maybe she can't. Maybe she shouldn't have to, but I didn't want to go into _Protective Olivia _mode and get my head bitten off later.

She stops and turns to face me, glaring at me with the look that sends the most hardened criminals running in the other direction. Slowly and deliberately, she says, "You are going to go back in there and send him home."

I stare at her. "But – don't you want –?"

"Don't you get it? It doesn't _matter_ what I want. We can't hold him, so send him home." Then more quietly, she says, "We can't go through this again."

"Alex, he killed a little girl! And he beat _you_. And he _raped _you."

Very purposefully, she says, "Cut. Him. Loose." It isn't a request anymore. It's an order.

"You were just a child. You didn't deserve that. No one does."

Her voice rises again. "I'm not a _victim_, Olivia, so don't treat me like one! Do you see what I mean now? You're doing exactly what I thought you'd do if you knew, which is why I never told you!"

That stops me for a moment. And then I realize she's right. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just for once in your life, accept that I know what I'm talking about and do as I say. Do you want a lawsuit on your hands?"

I don't. So, almost mechanically, I turn around and walk back to the interrogation room. Through clenched teeth, I growl, "You can go. The charges are dropped."

George Cabot smirks. "Thank you, Detective. And tell my Lexi I love her, okay?"

Before I can stop myself, I have him on the ground and I'm kicking, kicking, kicking. It's almost as if some evil demon has taken over my body and I have no control. I don't even know what I'm doing. I just have to stop him, before he hurts my Alex any further. He will haunt her until he's dead and if this is what I need to do to protect her, then so be it.

"Whoa, Detective!" I feel strong arms pulling me away and I don't even resist. "Police brutality!"

Just as suddenly as I went into it, I snap out of the trance. _Shit. _I just beat the crap out of a suspect, with his defense attorney looking on. But this isn't just any suspect. This is the man who raped my strong, beautiful Alex Cabot. _The woman I love._

"You can go," I repeat, stepping away from him so I don't lunge again and attack him. "But we'll be watching you."

He gets to his feet and brushes himself off. "Tell her I'll be in _touch_."

I grab onto the table to steady myself. "Get out!"

And he does, throwing me a self-satisfied smile over his shoulder. He's won this round and he knows it.

**Duh duh duh! So . . . what now? Review to find out!**


	10. Chapter 10

Alex stays away for three days and then it's the weekend. I try to call her, but she doesn't answer her phone. I know she's angry and she has the right to be. But I'm worried about her and I miss her. So much.

I spend the weekend moping and worrying about Alex, wishing she was by my side right now. I call her every other hour, but her cell phone is off.

Monday morning, I decide I can't take it anymore. I call Captain Cragen and tell him I'm going to be late for work. Instead of going directly to the precinct, I take a cab to the DA's office. I march down to Alex's office and knock on the door.

"Who is it?" calls a slightly shaky voice.

It makes me pause a moment, but then I call back, "It's Liv. Can I come in?"

"Hold on." I hear her footsteps advancing toward the door and she clicks the lock before opening it. Taking a deep breath, she says, "Hi."

Although her hair and makeup are immaculate as ever, the dark bags under her eyes tell me that something's wrong. "Hey," I say as gently as I can. "How's it going?"

The look on her face scares me for a moment, and I think she might slam the door in my face, but she doesn't. "Why don't we talk about this later?"

"Okay," I agree quickly, just glad she's talking to me again. "My place. After work."

She nods. "I'll see you then."

* * *

I'm filled with nervous anticipation the entire day. All I can think – and worry – about is Alex. What's wrong? But at least she's talking to me again. And she's coming over after work. And we can talk.

I'm pacing around my apartment at 9:00 when I hear the knock on the door. I got home two hours ago and I'm thinking she's probably not going to come, but I fling it open and there stands Alex Cabot. Breathing a sigh of relief, I step aside so she can come in.

Pushing a few magazines from the couch to the coffee table, she sits down gingerly, wrapping her arms around herself. I sit down beside her and don't say anything.

Without looking at me, Alex says quietly, "There was traffic."

"That's okay," I tell her. "I'm just glad you came."

She plays with a fiber of her shirt, staring at it as if the most interesting thing in the world right now. Still, she doesn't say a word. To my astonishment, I see that she's fighting back tears.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" I ask as gently as I can, aware that she's not going to make this easy for me, but it's in both of our best interests for her to tell me what's bothering her.

She still doesn't say anything, but to my surprise she leans back and rests her head on my shoulder. My heart melts in that one action and I know she doesn't want me to push her, but still, I have to know.

"Did he do something, Alex? Did he hurt you?"

She knows who I mean, but shakes her head. However, we both know she's not being honest.

"It can only hurt you when you keep it inside," I murmur, stroking her hair. "If you let it out, you're taking control of it, and it can't hurt you anymore. If you stay silent, he wins."

She looks up at me, her blue eyes bottomless orbs of sadness. "He was calling me. He said – he said we should get together again."

"And what did you say?" I ask quietly, continuing to run my fingers through her hair.

"I told him to leave me alone. But he said he we needed to stay in _touch_. The implication was there." She looks at her hands, and her next words make her seem more vulnerable than I've ever seen her before. "I'm not a child anymore, but still – I don't know if I'd be able to stop it." She sighs. "It's not supposed to be like this."

"I'm not going to let him hurt you," I assure Alex, holding her tightly. "And what happened doesn't make you weak. You're brave, Alex, and we're going to get through this."

She looks at me again. "_We_?"

"Yeah. You and me. _We_."

She smiles a bit, leaning her head on my shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

"No, for getting upset with you after . . . you know. I know you were only trying to help."

I hold her in my arms, rocking her gently like she's a small child until her breathing evens out and I know she's asleep.

Pressing a soft kiss to her temple, I murmur, "I love you," even though I know she can't hear me. Maybe it isn't something she needs to hear, but it's something that I need to say. Because I do love her. More than anything.

**How about that? Review for chapter eleven!**


	11. Chapter 11

This time I fall asleep too, and when I wake up in the morning, Alex is still in my arms. I smile to myself, then realize my left leg is asleep. Trying to be as gentle as I can so as not to wake her, I shift her to one side, but the slight movement wakes her up. She looks disoriented for a moment and her body tenses, but then she relaxes and looks up at me, flashing me a smile that melts my heart. "'Morning, Liv," she murmurs.

"Sleep okay?" I ask, smiling down at her.

"Mm." She nods, snuggling closer to me, and I melt again. Being so close to Alex, even at a time like this is . . . exhilarating, to say the least.

I start to mindlessly run my fingers through her hair and Alex purrs, rolling onto her side and resting her head in my lap. Then I realize what I'm doing and stop. "Alex, is this . . . okay?"

She looks up at me, clearly surprised at the question, but then she nods, settling back against me. Smiling to myself, I go back to stroking her hair.

The ringing of her cell phone makes Alex's body tense and her head snaps up, her eyes widening at the realization.

"Ignore it," I murmur, pulling her closer to me as if my arms can erect a wall around her, protecting her from the demons that plague her consciousness.

"I can't," she tells me, extricating herself from my grasp. "It could be Liz. Or Arthur."

"Does the DA usually call you in the wee hours of the morning?"

She laughs. "7:00 is hardly a 'wee hour.' You're misusing the term."

I laugh with her. "My apologies, o pedantic one."

She gets up and walks over to where her purse is sitting on the ground. Rummaging around for her phone, she flips it open and says crisply, "Cabot." I watch her pale face turn completely white and she says curtly, trying to mask the panic in her tone, "I want nothing to do with you. Let me be." She hangs up the phone, then turns to me, her hands shaking as she drops it back into her purse. "It was him."

"Come here," I tell her, patting the space beside me. "Sit with me. Forget about him. It's okay."

She laughs, but there's no humor in her tone, only bitterness. "Why is it always 'okay'? It's _not _okay." But she lowers herself onto the couch next to me.

"We can get you a protective detail," I assure her. "You'll be safe."

"But if we do that, he wins."

"You're more important than 'winning.'"

She sighs as if she has the weight of the world on her shoulders, then snuggles against my side. I wrap my arms around her, my heart pounding so loudly that I'm sure she can hear it. Having her so close to me is the greatest feeling in the entire world.

We're interrupted by the ringing of her phone once again, and she jumps. I rub her back soothingly, trying to lull her tense muscles into a more relaxed state. "Let it ring."

The fire drains from her eyes and she sighs again. "Fine."

I feel a pang of sadness at how easily and abruptly Alex is relinquishing control. She's usually the one giving all the orders, and when she says, "Jump," we all ask, "How high?" But now she's the one who needs help. She's the one who doesn't know what to do. She's the one who's in a bad place right now.

"If he's harassing you, we can pick him up," I offer.

She shakes her head. "And then what? You can't arrest a man for calling his daughter."

"If he's stalking you . . ."

"He's not. You know the statute as well as I do. He's just calling me. I'm a big girl and I can handle it."

"We can –"

"No, Liv. You can't." She extricates herself from my arms and scoots over to the other side of the couch, then bites out, "Stop trying to take care of me. I don't need it."

I flinch at her words. It's almost as if she's said, "I don't need _you_." Her meaning is clear.

But that's Alex, always wanting to be independent. It's hard for her to open up to people, and I guess I should consider myself lucky that I got this far. But all I want right now is to hold her until she forgets her pain, to make it better for her. And I know she doesn't want it and she doesn't like being in this position – I'm the same way – but I love her. And all I want it to make it okay.

"We all need someone to be there for us sometimes, Alex," I tell her, but she waves her hand dismissively.

"Don't patronize me, Olivia. Stop talking like a therapist and stop treating me like one of your victims. I'm _not_."

"I know," I tell her quietly. "But, Alex." I swallow hard, then decide that honesty is the best policy. I've wanted to tell her this from the moment I met her, but I've always been afraid. But now – she needs to hear the words just as much as I need to say them. "Alex, I love you."

Her head snaps up and she stares at me, emotions flashing through those bottomless blue eyes a million miles an hour, before finally settling on one – _sadness_. And that confuses me. _What did I do wrong? _And then I see tears rushing to her eyes, which is just as frightening as it is perplexing. I've never seen my Alex cry before! "What's the matter?" I ask her gently, terrified that I've said something that triggered a bad memory or done something that might destroy our relationship, indeterminate as it may be.

She grabs a pillow and hugs it to her chest, resting her cheek on it and refusing to meet my eyes. "Nothing," she says, her voice hoarse, and I can tell she's trying not to cry.

I have the urge to reach out and hug her, to assure her that whatever it is, it's okay. And then it occurs to me that maybe she's upset at my sentiments because she doesn't feel the same way. My blood runs cold and for a moment, I'm at a loss for words. Maybe I shouldn't have told her that. Maybe our relationship is one-sided. Maybe she doesn't care about me the same way I care about her. Maybe –

Alex's quiet voice cuts into my thoughts. Silent tears are streaking down her cheeks as she whispers, "I love you, too."

**Hmm . . . so maybe their relationship isn't so indeterminate after all. Do you want to know what happens next? Review to find out!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I know this one's another short one, but I wanted to leave you with an evil cliffie. Mwahahahahahaha!**

Her words take my breath away for a moment and I have to second guess whether or not I heard her right. If she loves me too, then why is she crying?

She looks so piteous and sad that it's breaking my heart. I scoot over so I'm right beside her and wrap my arms around her again, gently kissing away her tears. There are about a million things I want to say to her, but I know that it's not the time or the place. So I just wait in silence. And finally, she says in a soft voice, hoarse with tears, "It's hard for me."

"I know," I say, kissing the crown of her head. "But we're going to be okay. I love you, Alex, and that's all that matters."

She lets out a shuddering breath, her sobs gradually turning to whimpers and then subsiding. "I love you, too. More than anything."

That makes me smile and I plant a chaste kiss on her cheek. "No one's going to hurt you."

She buries her face in my neck and nods. "I'll be okay."

"You will be," I echo, as if my saying it will make it so. Because what I've learned throughout the course of this job is that there are no guarantees. Especially when it comes to safety.

Alex and I cuddle on the couch for a little bit, then we get up, shower, and get ready for work. When we arrive together at the precinct, John turns to Fin, holding out his hand. "Pay up."

"Wait, _what_?" I ask, half in incredulity and half in amusement.

John and Fin exchange glances, then look at Elliot, who explains, "They bet twenty bucks that you'd bring Cabot home with you."

"Glad I've earned you some money, then," I tell John dryly, who has the good grace to blush. Alex just shakes her head.

Suddenly her phone rings again and Alex jumps. Her hands are trembling as she rummages in her purse and answers her phone with a curt, "Cabot." Her face turns completely white and she hangs up, then turns to us. "I have to go. I'll meet you back at your place after work, Liv."

I nod, and bite back the, "Be careful," that's bubbling in my throat. I'm her girlfriend – I think – not her mother.

* * *

The day goes by at a snail's pace and by 2:00, I'm ready to go home. All I want is to be with my Alex again, to be cuddling on my couch like we were this morning, when all that exists is each other, content in the knowledge of our mutual love.

But I have to stick out the day, and it's an hour drive home in rush hour even though I don't live that far from the precinct. I have to stop myself from running into my apartment, because I know that although I've given Alex the key, she might not be there, and if she is, I don't want to appear too eager. Turning the key in the doorknob, I go inside, calling, "Alex?"

There's no answer. I'm a bit disappointed that she's not here yet, but settle in the living room with a book, figuring she'll be here soon.

But she isn't. With every hour that creeps by, my heart sinks a little farther. By 8:00, I'm starting to worry. Did I do something wrong? Did I say something? Am I taking this too quickly? Doesn't she love me after all?

I try calling her cell phone six times, but she doesn't answer. My heart is breaking with each time the phone goes into voicemail. I leave three messages, but she doesn't call back.

Finally, at two in the morning, I give up. Changing into my pajamas, I climb into bed and pull a pillow into my arms, pressing my cheek to it as tears streak down my face. Hugging the pillow to my chest, I pretend that it's Alex.

**Hmm . . . so why didn't Alex show up? Is she really in love with Olivia? Or is completely unrelated? Hmm . . . Review to find out!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thanks for all the reviews; they make my day! Enjoy the next installment.**

The next morning I wake up and for a moment, I'm disoriented, and entertain the fantasy that Alex might be right beside me. But when I open my eyes, I roll over to find that she isn't, and my heart shatters into tiny pieces all over again and tears rush to my eyes. _Alex, _I ask silently, _What did I do wrong?_

I can't stay in bed forever, even though I all I want to do is crawl back under the covers and sleep for a million years. I shower and grab a bagel for breakfast before driving down to the precinct.

"You look like hell," comments Elliot when I walk in.

"Shut up," I growl.

"Cabot didn't give you any last night?" asks John with an amused smirk.

Wow. That is wrong on _so _many levels. I flip him off and plop down at my desk, attacking my paperwork with zeal.

"Where is Cabot, by the way?" asks Elliot.

"What makes you think _I _know?"

He raises an eyebrow. "_Oh. _Okay." He hesitates. "I tried calling her. She didn't answer. We need a warrant to search Mortimer's place."

"Call somebody else," I snap.

"Who do you suggest I call, Olivia?" he snaps back.

I sigh. "Sorry, El. I'm just . . . wound tight this morning."

"No kidding," he says dryly, pulling out his cell phone and dialing Alex's number again. She doesn't answer, and he hangs up with a sigh. "I'll call Carmichael, then. Maybe she can do us a favor."

"I will," I offer. "She's a friend." And I need to get down to the DA's office anyway. Maybe I'll check on Alex and ask her what I did wrong, because I have absolutely no idea. And I can't stop myself from loving her.

* * *

I go to see Abbie and ask her about the warrant. She agrees and tells me to say hi to Alex for her, which makes me do a double take. _Why would she think I'd be any closer to Alex than she is?_

Pondering this, I walk down to Alex's office. Bracing myself, I knock on the door. She doesn't answer, and I die a little inside. I knock once more. Still, nothing. "Alex?" I call softly, but she still doesn't answer.

My heart sinks even farther as I try her doorknob. Surprisingly, it's unlocked, and I hesitantly go inside. "Alex?" I call again.

But her office is empty.

It's all I can do not to cry. Was the other night so horrible that she can't bear to be anywhere near me? Is this my fault? But how can it be, when I don't even know what I did wrong?

I don't even bother to dial her cell phone again. Instead, I hang my head and slink away in shame.

* * *

"So, Carmichael's getting the warrant for us?" asks Elliot when I return to the precinct.

I nod. "Yeah."

"What about Alex?"

I sigh. "Don't ask."

He nods sympathetically.

Just then, Captain Cragen pokes his head out of his office. "Where's Cabot?"

I want to ask why she's so popular all of a sudden, but I bite back the snappy retort. Instead, I reply, "Not here. Carmichael's getting the warrant."

"Donnelly called," the captain informs us. "She wanted me to relay something to Cabot. She's not at the DA's office, so Donnelly assumed she was here."

"She and Liv had a _fight_," John calls from across the room.

I glare at him, feeling very much like a kindergartner who another kindergartner is tattling on. But I didn't do anything wrong. _Did I?_

"So Cabot just decided to go on strike?" asks Captain Cragen incredulously.

I shrug. "Not my problem."

"Well, it's your problem now," the captain snaps. "Call Cabot and tell her to stop moping and get her ass down here. If you two can't keep your personal lives personal, you're going to have a problem."

I sigh. "I tried calling her."

"Try again."

"I tried six times and Elliot tried twice. She doesn't want to talk to us."

"How mature," comments John dryly.

"Shut up, John," I tell him through gritted teeth.

"So what do you propose we do without our ADA, Detective?" asks Captain Cragen.

"We got Carmichael to get us the warrant," cuts in Elliot. "We'll give Alex some time to cool down. It's okay."

He nods, appeased for the moment. But his statement makes me wonder – what does Alex need to cool down _from_?

**So what did Olivia do wrong? Or did she . . . Review for chapter fourteen!**


	14. Chapter 14

**So here's the answers you've all been waiting for. Love me. :)**

But Alex doesn't come to work the next day, or the day after. By Friday, I'm a wreck. I've tried calling her and I've gone to the DA's office, but she isn't there. Then I start to wonder if this has anything to do with me after all. I couldn't have said or done anything to make her hate me _this _much . . . right?

On Friday, I go to Captain Cragen with my concerns. My personal life really isn't any of his business, but this is _Alex_, and her safety is more important than my privacy.

He looks up when I knock on his office door. "What is it, Olivia?"

I clasp my hands behind my back. "It's Alex," I tell him quietly.

"What about her?"

"I don't know where she is."

He raises an eyebrow. "I think that's the point."

"Alex doesn't _take _personal time and she hasn't been at work. She didn't even call Liz to tell her she was taking time off. I'm worried about her."

"I'm sure she's fine, Liv," says the captain.

"Still, I'd like to make sure. I've tried calling her and I tried going to her apartment, but she didn't answer."

He sighs. "What do you want me to do for you?"

"Check on her father's whereabouts. I just want to make sure he hasn't – she told me he was calling her and he wouldn't leave her alone. I told her we could do something for her, but . . . well, I guess I did something wrong because she wouldn't talk to me and I couldn't tell her."

"Fine. Let me make a few calls."

"Thank you," I tell him gratefully. I'm aware that I'm probably overreacting, but I have to be sure that Alex is okay. Because I love her. More than anything.

* * *

About ten minutes later, the captain pokes his head out of his office. "Benson, Stabler. Go down to George Cabot's place. I'm sure it's nothing, but check it out anyway."

My heart starts to race as I grab my jacket and follow Elliot out the door. Jumping into the front seat of the car, I gun the engine and back out of the parking lot at about twenty miles over the speed limit.

Elliot grabs onto the seat. "Whoa, take it easy, Liv!"

"Oh, right, the poster boy for impulsivity is telling _me_ to slow down," I bite out sarcastically, not slowing my pace.

He grips the seat so tightly that his knuckles turn white, but doesn't say a word as I make a sharp turn that almost sends the car flying. That's when I realize what I'm doing and slow down. We won't be any help to Alex if we get into a car accident.

After what seems like an eternity, we arrive at Alex's father's house. I don't even turn off the car, just fling the door open and sprint up the driveway, Elliot at my heels. Banging on the door, I call, "Police! Open up." He doesn't, so with a perverse sense of satisfaction, I ram my body into the front door. The adrenaline coursing through my veins gives me a strength I didn't know I had, and the door shatters.

Elliot and I run into the house. "Alex?" I call.

There's no response.

"Alex?" echoes Elliot.

Still nothing.

"Alex?" I repeat, my voice rising in alarm. I pause, then as Elliot starts to speak again, I hiss, "Shut up!"

Sure enough, there's a small voice whispering, "Liv?"

I let out a sigh of relief. "We're coming, sweetie," I tell her, trying to reduce the panic in my voice. "Where are you?"

"Basement," Alex replies, and I almost cry. Her voice is the sweetest sound.

Elliot and I open and shut doors as fast as we can until we find the one that leads to the basement. I turn the knob – _crap, it's locked_. "If you were George Cabot, where would you keep the key to the basement?" I ask Elliot frantically.

"On me."

"That's doesn't help!"

"Under the mattress," he tells me. Seeing the look on my face, he shrugs and explains, "That's where men hide things."

I clamber up the stairs at top speed until I find the master bedroom. Pulling the mattress off the bed, I let out a deep breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding when I see the key. "Got it!" I call to Elliot, running back down to the main floor.

He turns the key in the knob and I race down to the basement.

Sure enough, Alex is crouched in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest, shivering in the damp basement. Her teeth are chattering from the cold. She looks so small and vulnerable that I have to blink back my tears. I run to her and wrap my arms around her trembling body, rubbing her arms to warm them up. "It's okay," I murmur, unsure if I'm saying it for my own benefit or for hers. "We're here. You're okay."

She clings to me like a lifeline, not saying anything. Then we both seem to remember Elliot's presence at the same time, and we look up at him. He seems to realize he's intruding on a private scene and shifts uncomfortably. Clearing his throat, he says, "Um, Liv, Alex, we should get out of here."

I glance at Alex and blush. "Right. Are you okay?"

Pushing herself up onto shaky legs, she nods. "Yeah." Still gripping my arm so tightly that her fingernails leave crescent moons on my arm, she follows me out to the car.

"I'll drive," says Elliot, waiting for me to argue, but I don't. I climb into the backseat next to Alex and take her trembling, icy hands in mine.

I don't ask her anything or push her to talk. I just sit there with her, soothing her with my mere presence and taking comfort in hers.

**So what happened to Alex? Will she be okay? Will Olivia be able to help her? Review to find out!**


	15. Chapter 15

Elliot drops us off at my apartment before going back to the precinct himself. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," he says gently.

"Are you okay?" I ask Alex again as I climb out of the car.

She nods mutely and follows me up to my apartment.

I let us in then go straight to the kitchen. I need a pick-me-up right now, and a cup of coffee is just the thing. "Want some coffee?" I call to Alex, who's making herself comfortable on my couch.

"Tea?" she asks.

I roll my eyes. "What makes you think I have any tea in this house, princess?"

"Of course not. What was I _thinking_?" jokes Alex.

I giggle nervously, but it feels good to be laughing again. Maybe she isn't in as bad a shape as I originally thought.

Or maybe that's just wishful thinking.

I finish with my coffee and pour it into a mug. Carrying it into the living room, I set it on the coffee table and curl up beside Alex. Her trembling has mostly abated, which is a relief, but only slightly.

I wrap my arms around her shoulders and she flinches at the unexpected touch, which makes me feel immediately guilty. "Hey, sweetie, it's okay," I murmur, planting a chaste kiss on her cheek.

She lets out a shaky breath. "Yeah, I know. I'm fine. Sorry, Liv."

I press another kiss to her temple. "I love you, Alex."

She gives me a wan smile. "I love you, too."

And suddenly, my world is back to perfect.

* * *

The perfect world lasts until midnight, when we fall asleep in each other's arms after ordering in Chinese food and watching _The Devil Wears Prada _for the millionth time. Alex has pretty much the entire thing memorized, and recites the lines along with the characters just because she knows it drives me crazy. It's almost as if things are back to normal.

But almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

* * *

I wake up around three in the morning to a sharp kick in my stomach. I can't breathe for a moment and wonder where I am, but then I remember – I'm in my bed with Alex by my side. _Alex _. . . I turn to face her and see that she's thrashing around, kicking and tossing and turning, mumbling incoherently. I can tell she's having a nightmare and gently take her by the shoulders, trying to wake her. "Alex. _Alex_."

She starts awake and backs away from me, her eyes wide with fright. Whimpering, she curls up at the edge of the bed and closes her eyes.

"Hey, Alex, it's just me," I soothe her. "It's okay. It's Liv. You're safe."

Then she's fully awake and realizes where she is, because she sighs and murmurs, "I'm sorry I woke you, Olivia."

"It's okay," I assure her, waving my hand dismissively. "I love you, Alex, and I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for you."

She smiles faintly, giving me a kiss before rolling onto her side, facing away from me.

It breaks my heart. "Is there anything I can do, Alex?"

She doesn't say anything for a long time and I start to think that she's fallen asleep. Then she says in a tiny voice, "Hold me?"

She sounds so small and vulnerable that my heart shatters into tiny pieces. She wants me to hold her, and so I do.

Then I hear a sniffle. To my surprise, silent tears are streaking down Alex's cheeks and making little puddles on my sheets. "It's okay," I whisper, rubbing her back in comforting circles. "It's okay, Alex. I'm here. I'm right here."

"I know," she whimpers, her voice hoarse with tears. "I'm sorry."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask her hesitantly, fully prepared for her to say no.

But she doesn't. She sighs and doesn't say anything for a long time. Finally, she says softly, "He had my sister. He was – hurting her. He told me – he told me that he didn't really want her, he wanted me, but he would take what he could get. He said – I won't repeat what he said; it was obscene. So what could I do? I went. He let her go but then he – he locked me up and he – he _raped _me. He raped _me_. Now. I thought –" She stifles a sob. "I thought I was stronger than that. I thought he couldn't hurt me anymore."

Again, I feel the overwhelming urge to kill him for what he did to my Alex. But all I can do right now is hold her, and I do. "You did what you thought was right, Alex. You were protecting your sister, and that doesn't make you weak. It makes you _brave_. It wasn't your fault. You got through it. You survived. And you're okay."

This time, she doesn't even snap at me for talking to her like a victim, and I realize a second too late that that's what I'm doing. She just sighs and rests her head on my shoulder. "I know," she whispers. "I am." She looks up at me, then manages a small smile. "_Now_."

**Review for chapter sixteen!**


	16. Chapter 16

Finally, Alex falls back into a fitful sleep. Ignoring the fact that it's almost four in the morning, I climb out of bed and dial Elliot's phone number.

"Stabler," he answers sleepily on the third ring.

"El? It's Liv."

"Liv?" He sounds a bit more awake, but groans. "Why the hell are you calling me in the middle of the night?"

"Sorry. It's Alex."

I can hear Kathy in the background murmuring, "Elliot? Who is it?"

"Liv," he replies.

I can hear her grunt of disapproval, but this can't wait until morning.

"We need to arrest George Cabot."

"It's the middle of the night."

"Don't you think I know that already? _Arrest him_."

"For what?" asks Elliot groggily.

"Let's see, aggravated assault, rape in the first degree, kidnapping . . . and that's only for starters," I snap. "I'll bet we can find a minimum of ten crimes to charge this son of a bitch with."

"Does Alex know?"

I glance at the fragile woman sleeping beside me. With her blonde hair splayed over her face, her head resting on both her hands, she looks like an angel. I decide that a little white lie won't hurt anyone, so I reply, "Yeah. She's with me now." I can feel his raised eyebrows through the phone and add hastily, "She didn't want to be alone."

"_Right. _So you want me to leave my nice, warm bed and arrest this piece of crap right now?"

"Alex is a friend," I tell him, disdain lacing my tone.

He groans. "Okay, okay, I'm going. I'd kill the bastard myself, Liv. You know that."

I do. "Thanks, El."

"See you in a few hours," he tells me.

"Bye."

I flip my phone shut and lower myself back onto my pillow, beside Alex. I snuggle as close to her as I dare and gently brush a few strands of hair out of her eyes. She looks so beautiful, and yet, at the same time, so broken. All I want to do is hold her and kiss her pain away, but I can't. And I understand. All I really want is to protect my Alex, but I know that relationships don't work that way. Friendship – and love – is quid pro quo, give and take. If I spend my life trying to take of Alex, then I'm telling her that I think she's incapable of taking care of herself, and I know my independent Alex wouldn't like that one bit. So I won't.

But I need to be close to her right now. I press my body to hers and tenderly run my fingers through her hair. She doesn't wake up, but that's okay. I'm not doing it for her. I'm doing it for myself.

* * *

She sleeps until morning, but I don't sleep at all. I can't. My heart is breaking for my poor Alex, so close to me now, and yet so far. I love her so much that seeing her in pain physically hurts me, and it makes me sick inside. I find myself contemplating how I could kill George Cabot. I could strangle him, maybe, but that would leave evidence. I could poison him . . . no, too complicated. I could beat him to death with my bare hands . . . no, that would give him too much of a chance to fight back. I want him to be as powerless as he made my Alex.

And of course, I know I'll never do any of these things. It's just a comfort to know I _could_, if I ever so desired. I have the _power_ to protect the woman I love, even if I'll never use it. But I will, because I'm going to make sure this bastard rots in jail for what he did to her.

"Livvy?"

My head snaps up at the sound, then I realize it's just Alex. Tears rush to my eyes at the sweet nickname, but I blink them back. "Hey, sweetie," I murmur as she rolls over to face me. "It's not morning yet."

She smiles. "I know."

"Did I wake you?"

She shakes her head. "I wasn't asleep."

I chuckle. "You most definitely were. You talk in your sleep, did you know that?"

She wrinkles her nose. "What did I say?"

Flashing her a lopsided grin, I reply sweetly, "How much you love me."

She laughs. "_Right. _But you already know that."

I do. Before I've even realized what I'm doing, I've leaned forward and pressed my lips to Alex's.

Her eyes widen for a moment, but then she melts into the kiss. It's the greatest feeling in the entire world.

Finally, we break apart. I hold my breath, waiting for Alex's reaction, wondering if I've done the wrong thing.

But her expression softens into a sweet smile as she leans back against the headboard, and I let out a sigh of relief. I didn't do the wrong thing after all.

She looks as if she's about to say something, but we're interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone. I force myself to tear my eyes away from Alex's and reach over to grab my phone. "Sorry, Alex," I apologize. "I have to take this." Flipping open my phone, I clear my throat and answer, "Benson."

"Liv, it's me."

"Oh, hi, Elliot."

"George Cabot is MIA," he tells me.

"What do you mean, he's MIA?"

"He's not at his house or at work or anywhere that we could think of."

My heart skips a beat. "What about his wife?"

He sighs. "We found her all right."

"What do you mean?"

"Shot dead in the master bedroom. Execution style. By his gun. But both he and the gun are on the run."

"Check out his credit cards, phone records," I tell him, my voice rising an octave in panic.

"I did. Nothing and nothing. But he made a huge withdrawal from his bank account last night."

"Check the airports, train stations –"

"I _did_," says Elliot. "Nothing."

My heart sinks. "So he could be anywhere. Watching. Waiting."

Alex taps my shoulder, mouths, _What_? But I just shake my head. How can I tell her that the man who caused her so much pain is still out there, ready to hurt her some more?

"Yeah, but we'll find him." Then in a gentler tone, he asks, "How's Alex doing?"

I glance at her. "Fine. I don't think we'll be in today, El. Tell Cragen."

I'm waiting for his, "Tell him yourself," but it doesn't come. He just says, "Okay. Bye, Liv."

"Bye." I flip my phone shut and turn back to Alex's questioning gaze.

Sighing, I brace myself, wondering how to tell her. Finally, I just come out with it. "Your father."

She starts to tremble at the look of trepidation on my face in relation to this, but she tries to force her body to be calm. I reach out to take her hand, but she pulls away. Wanting to show me how strong she is, how strong she can be on her own. "What about him?" she asks as evenly as she can, but I detect the slight tremor in her voice.

I sigh. There's no easy way to say this. Wanting more than anything to pull her close, to run my fingers through her hair, to press my lips to hers and make her forget her pain, I whisper, "He's on the run."

Alex's pale face goes even whiter. Folding her hands in her lap to calm their shaking, she looks up at me, trying but failing to make her face blank. All she can manage to choke out is, "Oh."

I want to reach out to her, to touch her, to give her some semblance of physical reassurance, to comfort her in the only way I can. But I know she doesn't want it, so I wrap my arms around myself instead. "We'll find him," I try to assure her, but the words sound hollow even to me.

She takes a shaky breath and nods. "We'll be okay," she says quietly.

I know she has to say _we_, because saying _I _would make her seem too vulnerable, too weak. It would make it seem like I'm stronger than she is, like our relationship is uneven. So I don't say anything.

And then I wonder if she said it to convince me or to convince herself.

**Review for chapter seventeen!**


	17. Chapter 17

**I know this is a short one, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!**

Alex rolls back onto her side and doesn't say anything else. I know instinctively that she won't want to be touched right now, that she won't want me to ask her anything, that she won't want me to try to take care of her. So I start to get up. "I'm going across the street to get some coffee," I tell her. "We ran out last night."

"No!" Her emphatic, slightly panicked protest surprises me. Then, in a calmer voice, she whispers, "Stay with me. Please."

Obediently, I lower myself back onto the bed, knowing again that that she won't want me to ask her why. Well, I suppose she wouldn't mind my asking; she just wouldn't answer, so it would be pointless.

She rolls back onto her side, facing away from me. Impulsively, I reach out and start to rub her back. She flinches and I pull my hand away as if it's been burned. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she says quietly, leaning back toward me. Tentatively, I go back to rubbing gentle circles into her back. Her tense muscles relax and she leans into the touch.

We've gone through this dance so many times before and we both know all the steps, but that doesn't make it any easier. So I do all I can, comforting her with my presence and with my gentle touches, even though I know it's not enough.

We lie together in bed for I don't know how long, then we're both startled by a knock on my apartment door. Alex immediately stars to tremble. I soothe her as best I can, planting a kiss on her cheek, promising that it isn't him, even though in actuality I'm not sure. I grab my service weapon, make sure it's loaded, then tell Alex to stay put. Which is unnecessary, because she's shaking so hard that she probably couldn't move even if she wanted to.

Stepping out into the hallway, I call, "Who's there?"

"It's me." _Elliot._

I unlock the door and let him in.

Glancing at the gun in my hands, Elliot quirks an eyebrow. "Were you going to shoot me, Liv?"

Feeling slightly sheepish, I set the weapon on the kitchen table. "You can never be too careful. So, what's up?"

He shrugs. "Just wanted to see how you were doing."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really."

Elliot sighs. "And to tell you we're giving you a protective detail."

I'm all set to protest, but then I think the better of it and bite back my indignation, realizing this is the right thing. Maybe not for me, but for Alex. Much as I like to think I can protect her – as much as I _know _I can – it's better if I don't have to. So I just nod my understanding and my concurrence, then surprise myself by adding, "Get her sister one too."

Elliot seems surprised at my lack of complaint, but he's wise enough not to comment. Instead he says, "We will. So how's Alex holding up?"

"Fine," I say curtly, feeling a bit possessive although I know it's irrational. But Elliot is just waiting expectantly, so I add, "If you want the intimate details of our sex life, you're not getting any."

He laughs. "I didn't, but okay."

Blushing, I say, "Thanks for stopping by, El."

"We're going to find the bastard, Liv," he promises. "We will."

It's what I've been telling Alex all morning, but even now, I don't believe it.

Elliot leaves and I lock the door behind him before padding back to the bedroom. Alex is still trembling and I wrap my arms around her like a protective skin. "It's okay," I murmur. "It was just Elliot."

She nods, still clinging to me. "What did he want?"

"He got us a protective detail. And one for your sister. Just in case."

I'm all set for Alex to argue, but she doesn't. I guess she's really spooked, because my fiercely independent Alex would never accept police protection otherwise.

Alex just sighs and rests her head on my shoulder, her beautiful blue eyes vacant. She's staring off into the distance, focusing on something only she can see. All I can do now is hold her, creating the illusion of safety, as if I can protect her from her demons, both internal and external.

If only I could.

**Review if you want the next chapter!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Warning: M-rated content ahead. Warning for . . . sexual . . . themes. Reader discretion is advised.**

All we can do is wait. It wouldn't be prudent for Alex to leave the apartment and I'm not going to leave her alone, so we're virtual prisoners in our own home. _My _home, that will maybe be hers someday too. We can hope.

Another knock on the door startles me out of my reverie. Alex starts to tremble again and I press a kiss to her temple. "It's probably Elliot again," I tell her, gently stroking her hair. Nevertheless, I grab my gun before going to the door and call, "Who's there?"

"Officer Carlton. Can I use your bathroom?"

I roll my eyes, but it's better safe than sorry. Opening the door just a crack, I say, "Badge?"

He obediently holds it out and I open the door fully, letting the officer in to use the washroom.

I go back into the bedroom to reassure Alex. "It's okay," I tell her for what seems like the hundredth time that morning. "It's just one of the police officers outside. He needed to use the washroom."

She nods shakily and, as if to assure herself, she says, "He's not going to show up here. And if he does, they'll arrest him. My father may be many things, but stupid isn't one of them."

"Well, _that's_ comforting."

She gives me a wan smile. "That means we'll be stuck in your apartment for the rest of our lives."

Running a hand through her hair, I say mischievously, "I'm game if you are."

She snickers. "Not a problem. But you know, the police officers waiting outside our door probably won't like the . . . uh . . . ruckus."

Well, at least she's joking again.

I flash her a lopsided smile. "I don't mind. Do you?"

Shaking her head, Alex slides forward and presses her soft lips to mine. The gesture surprises me, but then I lean into the kiss.

The kiss is tender and sweet, beautiful and passionate all at once. But finally, regretfully, oxygen becomes a necessity. We break apart, staring into each other's eyes, and I feel the electricity, the spark between us.

Alex is the first to break the moment, a soft smile lighting up her face. "God, I love you, Liv."

They say dire circumstances bring people together better than any other, and now I know it's true. "I want –" I begin, unsure exactly how to articulate the sentiment. "I want _you_, Alex. I want –"

She interrupts me by leaning in for another kiss, her mouth claiming mine once again, and I think maybe this is the greatest feeling in the world.

Suddenly, I'm overcome with passion like a hormone-crazed teenager. My body is burning with desire and I need to be with her in the purest way any two people can be. my hands fly to my shirt, but my hands are shaking in the heat of the moment, and Alex stops me, her gentle hands taking mine. "Let me."

I let my hands fall to my sides and watch in wonderment as she undresses me, one piece of clothing at a time, as if I'm a delicate china doll. Slowly, she takes each discarded garment in her hands, folds it neatly, and places it on my dresser. By the time she's down to my bra and panties, my body is screaming with desire and all I want is to tear my clothes off and give myself to her fully.

She works her way down to my panties, which are absolutely drenched by now, and looks up at me with her gorgeous smile. She traces her hands over one of my thighs and I moan, my body yearning for more. "_Alex_."

Ever so slowly, she removes my damp panties, folds them up, and puts them beside the rest of my clothes.

And then she's on her hands and knees, exploring my body with her fingers, with her tongue. Her fingers are inside me and it's all I can do not to cry out in pleasure, because I love her so much and this feels so good and I've wanted it for so long and now here it is and it feels like heaven and – she brings me to a climax and I can't hold it in anymore, screaming Alex's name as I crash over the edge. _And it feels so good._

Exhausted from the exertion of what we've just done, I flop back down onto the bed and Alex lies down beside me, grinning like a cat. "Was that satisfactory, Detective?"

I groan my assent, glad to have lost myself in sex once again. It's a good escape from the reality that's threatening to suffocate us right now, the dark cloud looming over the two of us, the one that will never allow us to be truly together. _For now._

**Don't be too hard on me; I'm still not so good at stuff like this. I tried. Review for chapter nineteen!**


	19. Chapter 19

We lie on the bed together, our arms wrapped around each other, as close as we can be. It occurs to me what a great distraction this is, because all I can think about right now is how good this feels and how much I love Alex. So much that I want to spend the rest of my life with her. But Alex Cabot . . . well, the thought of being with her forever is daunting to say the least, but in an exhilarating way.

She's clearly not focusing on her father right now, and that welcome realization makes me feel a bit better. It's pathetic, but I'm almost glad that this happened, because it's brought us closer together. I wouldn't mind if we stayed like this, lying on my bed, holding each other, for the rest of our lives.

Eventually, I drift into a blissful slumber, dreaming of a world full of Alex, Alex, and Alex only. A world where nothing can hurt us and everything's okay. A world in which we can love each other forever and ever and ever and never let go.

* * *

I wake to gentle fingers running through my hair. _Alex. _Purring at the touch, I smile sheepishly up at her. "Was I asleep?"

"You talk in your sleep," she informs me, smiling back.

"And I tell you how much I love you, right?"

She laughs. "Right."

I'm pretty sure she's joking, but I can't be 100% sure, so I just laugh with her.

I'm about to lean in to kiss her again when my phone rings. Groaning, I consider ignoring it but decide not to, just in case it's Elliot and he has something important to tell me. Flipping open my phone, I bark, "What?"

"Did I interrupt something?" questions a voice laced with amusement. _Elliot._

Blushing, I shake my head, then realize that he can't see me. "No," I tell him, glancing at Alex. "Not at all. So what's up?"

"We got him."

I let out a deep breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Thank God."

"He's down at the precinct now. With his _lawyer_." The distaste in his voice is evident.

Looking down into Alex's questioning eyes, I say, "We'll meet you there in ten, okay?"

"Okay. See you in ten."

I hang up the phone and turn to Alex. The fear in her eyes is tearing my heart out, and I reach out to gently stoke her cheek. "We got him," I tell her quietly.

She smiles weakly, letting out a sigh of relief. "Good."

"I'm going down to the precinct. Are you coming?"

"Yeah, just give me a second." She leaps out of bed and throws on one of her business suits, raking her fingers through her hair in an attempt to make it more presentable. Then she turns to me. "Okay, let's go."

She follows me out of my apartment and I hail a cab. Alex silently climbs in next to me and I tell the driver where we're going. Noticing the look on my girlfriend's face, I take her hand in mine. She gives me a wan smile, but doesn't let go.

Elliot's waiting at the door for us. We follow him to the squad room, where John and Fin are sitting at their desks. John looks up when we enter. "Ah, Olivia. Good for you to grace us with your presence."

Elliot shoots him a dirty look and it does the trick, because he doesn't say anything else.

Alex is glancing nervously around the room. "Where is he?" she asks, her face pale.

"In an interrogation room," says Elliot grimly. "But I think you should wait here, Alex."

Surprisingly, she doesn't object, just leans against my desk and crosses her arms over her chest.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," I tell her. She just nods mutely, and Elliot and I go into the interrogation room, where Alex's father and Trevor Langan are sitting.

George Cabot is sitting with his hands clasped in front of him, his back ramrod straight, and I'm struck with how much the way he holds himself resembles Alex. But then I push the thought away. I need to separate him from the woman I love, otherwise I'll end up doing something I regret.

I glance at Elliot and the message in his eyes is clear. He'll give me the floor on this one, and I won't screw it up.

Before I can say a word, George asks, "Where's Lexi?"

"Who?" I growl, clenching my fists so I don't lose it and smack him.

"My little girl. But not so little anymore, eh? You love her, don't you, Detective Benson?"

"We're not here to talk about me," I tell him through clenched teeth. This man is unbelievable.

He tilts his head to the side. "She cries in her sleep sometimes. You know what she says?"

I clasp my hands tightly behind my back and say as calmly as I can, "No. I don't."

His smile grows even wider. "She says, 'Livvy! I'm sorry! I love you! I –'"

This time I recognize the signs that I'm about to lose control. Instead of doing something I know I'll regret, I storm out of that suffocating little room and back into the squad room, where I can hold Alex in my arms and reassure myself that she's safe, that she's here, that she's mine and I'm hers. It's all I've ever wanted.

**Review for chapter twenty!**


	20. Chapter 20

"That was quick," comments Alex as I storm into the squad room, fuming.

The fire drains from my eyes at the sight of my beautiful Alex, leaning against my desk, waiting for me. In two steps, I'm at her side, and I wrap my arms around her, hugging my Alex so tightly that I fear I might be restricting her intake of air.

"What's wrong?" she asks softly, loosening my grip so she can breathe again, but she doesn't push me away.

I glance at Fin, who is suddenly very interested in the DD5 he's filling out, and John, who's just staring at us. Subtlety is not one of his stronger points.

Burying my face in Alex's silky blonde tresses, I kiss her hair and murmur, "I love you, Alex."

I know she doesn't understand the reason behind my words, but she returns the sentiment anyway.

Elliot returns a few moments later. "He'll plead to rape in the first degree, sexual abuse in the first degree, kidnapping in the second degree, harassment in the third degree, and murder in the second degree. Twenty-five to life as long as the death penalty's off the table."

I glance at Alex, trying to gauge her reaction. Finally, she nods. "That's fine. I should – that's fine. We can't go through a trial again."

He squeezes her shoulder gently. "Should I have Abbie –?"

"No, no. I can do it. Just give me a moment." Extricating herself from my grasp, Alex steps away and takes a moment to compose herself. She corrects her posture, standing perfectly straight, with the poise of a princess. Then she turns to me. "Let's go."

"Are you sure?" I ask, then bite my tongue. I don't want to sound overprotective or as if I think she can't handle that.

But she doesn't seem bothered by my words, just nods. "I'm sure."

Elliot and I exchange glances, but we obediently walk with her down to the interrogation room, him on her right side and me on her left, taking a protective stance toward our ADA as if we can shelter her from this pain.

But she doesn't seem to need our protection. She walks into the room with her usual air of confidence, her indifferent façade up once again, the ice queen returning. I know she's not going to take any of his crap this time and God help him if he tries.

His face breaks into a smile at the sight of his daughter. "Hey, Lexi," he says, almost kindly.

Her face stony, she slides a piece of paper across the table. "Sign."

"Can't we –?"

"Sign," she repeats coolly. "Or we're done."

Clearly, he doesn't want that, so he signs the agreement. "So, Lexi, I had a nice chat with your girlfriend," he says.

She snatches the piece of paper and rises. "We're done. I'll see you at allocution." And with that, she stalks out of the room, Elliot and I at her heels.

"You did good, Alex," I murmur, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

"I'm not _that_ incompetent, Detective," she says good-naturedly.

I stare at her for a moment, then I understand. This has considerably lightened her burden, because now she knows he's going to jail for a long time, and she's going to be safe. Finally, she'll have some semblance of closure.

"Closure is a myth, Detective," Alex says, amused, when I mention this to her on the taxi ride home. "Your words, not mine."

I heave a theatrical sigh. "Will I ever live that one down?"

She shakes her head. "Never."

Groaning, I rest my head in her lap, which makes her laugh. Pushing me away, she teases, "Lying down in a taxi is a violation of state law, Detective."

"Eh, you're so full of it," I reply with a lopsided grin, but obediently sit up and buckle my seatbelt again.

She runs her hands through my hair and smiles. "Is this a good compromise?"

I smile back and close my eyes. "Mmm."

Her hands snake further down, stroking my sides, which sends a shiver rippling through my body.

"Not here," I murmur, but I can't help but lean into the touch.

She raises an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"We're in a cab."

Her hands move even lower, stroking me through my damp pants. My panties are absolutely drenched from even the gentle touch, and I groan in pleasure. "You mean you don't want me to do _this_, Detective?"

I want to pull away, but I can't bring myself to break the contact. It feels too good. "_Alex_ . . ."

She leans close and there's her hot breath in my ear as she squeezes tightly. "And you definitely don't want me to do this, _right_?"

I'm so hot that I can hardly breathe. This is what Alex Cabot does to my body, but still I manage to choke out, "Right."

She smirks and takes her hands away, folding them demurely in her lap. "Okay."

But I want to be close to her right now. So much. Growling softly, I lean toward Alex, pressing my lips to hers. She smiles through the kiss, then deepens it, parting her lips to accept my tongue. I close my eyes, leaning into the contact, but abruptly she pulls away, pressing a slender finger to my lips. "We're almost home."

I groan at the sudden withdrawal of physical contact, then it registers: she's called my apartment "home". And that makes waiting to get there worth it.

**I think I'm on my way to wrapping this up. Review for the last few chapters!**


	21. Chapter 21

After an evening of passionate lovemaking, we fall into bed together, exhausted. "I love you, Livvy," whispers Alex, laying her head on my shoulder and smiling contentedly.

Her words make my heart soar. With this evening's bliss, the pure love that we've shared, I feel like this is just an amazing, beautiful dream. But if it is, I hope I never wake up.

Running my hands through her soft blonde hair, I murmur, "I love you, too, Alex. So much."

She shifts to get more comfortable. Then out of nowhere, she says, "Olivia? What do you think happens after you die?"

I groan, massaging my temples. "Please don't ask me philosophical questions after midnight."

She rolls over to face me, smiling sweetly. "Okay."

Which of course makes me think about her question, and I figure that's what she wants. I don't want to say, "Nothing," so I just don't answer. I've seen so much death in my life that I truly want to believe in heaven, but I just don't. It's not something I can control.

A glance at Alex reveals that she's fast asleep. She looks so peaceful in slumber, so beautiful. How can I not believe in angels when there's one sleeping right next to me?

I wrap my arms around my angel, pulling her close and kissing the crown of her head. She smiles in her sleep, and I don't know if it's because she can feel my kisses or because she's having pleasant dreams, but it doesn't matter. And for the first time in twenty years, I pray. I pray that my angel will still be here when I wake.

* * *

I wake up in the middle of the night. With my eyes still closed, I reach out to stroke Alex's hair, but my hands end up resting on the pillow. Panicking, I open my eyes and realize that she's not beside me anymore. _Oh, my God . . . _I flip on the lamp and scan the room, my alarm increasing exponentially.

But then I see her and that turns my world back to perfect. That is, until I realize what she's doing.

She's curled up in the corner of the bedroom, clutching her knees to her chest, burying her face in them. Her shoulders are shaking and then I realize that she's _crying_, but silently. It's tearing my heart out and I go to her, kneeling down and gently massaging her back, trying to lull her tense muscles into a more relaxed state.

She cringes at the touch, then looks up at me, her eyes wide with fear, her face stained with tears. It takes her a moment, but then she realizes it's just me, and I see the relief in her clear blue eyes. And then the shame. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, brushing a hand across her face in a futile effort to remove the evidence of her tears.

Rubbing gentle circles into her back, I ask quietly, "Bad dream?"

She nods mutely.

I don't have the words to comfort her, so I don't even try. Instead, I lean forward to capture her lips in mine. I know the kiss is unexpected, but it's a welcome distraction for both of us, and she leans into it.

This is what we do. We comfort each other physically when all else fails.

Finally we break apart, staring into each other's eyes. I don't say anything. I'm waiting for Alex to make the first move. I'm waiting for her to show me what I can do for her, anything to assure her that she's safe.

But she doesn't say anything. She pushes herself up onto shaky legs, clearly wanting to return to bed, but then her knees give way and she sinks back to the ground.

"Do you need some help?" I say quietly. She doesn't say anything so I ask with a mischievous smile, "Can I carry you?"

She inclines her head slightly, so I wrap my arms around her and lift her into my arms, carrying her as if she's no more than a baby, and lay her gently on the bed.

"Better?" I ask, lying down beside her.

She rests her head on a pillow and sighs deeply.

I press a kiss to her temple and take her hands in mine. They're icy cold and I bring them to my lips, covering her hands with kisses, just as much for comfort as for heat. "I love you, baby," I murmur, because that's what she needs to hear right now. Because the words are true.

Her hands immediately go to her shirt and she starts to remove it. Readying herself for more sex?

But now isn't the time and I take her hands again. "We don't need to, Alex. It's okay."

"I want to," she whispers.

"Alex . . ." That's when I realize how crossed her signals are. How can I explain it to her now, how sex doesn't always equal love and love doesn't need to be demonstrated through sex? How I would love her even if she gave absolutely _nothing _to me physically?

Then the expression in her eyes turns to fear. "You don't want to?"

"No, that's not it, Alex. It's just –"

"I'm sorry," she says quickly. "I'm sorry. I'm just feeling a little bit . . . vulnerable . . . tonight."

"I know," I assure her. "It's okay. I love you, Alex. Always. You don't need to prove anything to me. You don't ever need to do anything you're uncomfortable with. I love you no matter what you can or can't do."

Her hands fall limply to her sides. "I don't want to," she admits in a voice so soft that it's barely audible. "But tonight . . . tonight was amazing, Olivia. I _did _want that."

Smiling gently, I plant a soft kiss on her forehead. "Are you feeling any better?"

She sighs, snuggling closer to me. Burying her face in my neck, she nods.

I wrap my arms around her, stroking silky blonde tresses. "Me, too," I murmur, so softly that I doubt she hears me. "Me, too."

**Review for the final chapter!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Here is the last chapter you've all been waiting for. Enjoy!**

Eventually, she manages to fall asleep, but I can't. I just lay there, watching my Alex sleep, wondering how I got so lucky. I have _Alex Cabot _in my apartment. I have _Alex Cabot _in my bed. I have _Alex Cabot _in my arms. This is a million dreams all rolled into one.

Then my thoughts turn to our future. We can work through all of our setbacks – if she lets me in. I know my Alex and I know that she hates being seen in a vulnerable position. How can I help her if she's too proud to admit she needs it?

To be fair, we've actually got farther in the last few days than I expected. We've talked about everything under the sun, shared some secrets, made beautiful love to one another, fallen asleep in each other's arms.

But she's in so much pain, more than you can see on the outside. This pain is coursing through her veins every moment, and somehow I need to staunch its flow. I've always been so good at doing that for those in need, which is why I became a police officer in the first place, but now, when it comes to the woman I love, I'm at a loss.

I just cradle her in my arms like she's a child, stroking her hair and planting intermittent kisses on her forehead, which do nothing to disturb her from her slumber. And then I understand why this means to much to her. She's never had anyone do this before, hold her and reassure her and kiss her and love her unconditionally, expecting absolutely nothing in return. No. I love Alex just because she's _Alex_, no strings attached. And is it too much to hope that she might feel the same way about me?

Alex stirs, startling me out of my thoughts. "Livvy?"

"Yeah, sweetie. Are you okay?"

She nods, resting her head back on my shoulder. "Just checking to make sure you were still here," she murmurs sleepily.

Pulling her closer to me, I press another kiss to her temple and assure her, "I'm not going anywhere, honey."

Closing her eyes, she smiles contentedly. "You're so good to me."

That just about breaks my heart. "You deserve it, Alex."

She snuggles closer to me. "I want to be with you, Liv," she whispers. "Always."

"Me, too," I whisper back.

She sits up, amusement playing around her lips. "You want to be with you, too?"

I laugh. "No, o pedantic one. I want to be with _you_." I understand that making a joke is Alex's way of relieving tension, so I don't take it personally.

She lies down again. "I'm game if you are."

"I'll be with you Alex," I pledge. "By your side through thick and through thin, happiness, hardship, sadness, the whole deal. I love you, Alex, and nothing's ever going to change that."

She gives me a watery smile. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," I tell her firmly. "Absolutely nothing."

"That's not a very fair statement to make, Detective," she says, raising an eyebrow.

I groan. "Don't call me _Detective _when we're in bed together, _Counselor._"

She laughs, but it doesn't meet her eyes. She's deadly serious now. "What if I did something bad?"

"You could never do anything bad enough to make me stop loving you," I assure her, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"But what if I did?"

"You wouldn't. You _couldn't_."

She sighs, turns so she's facing away from me and pushing my arms away. She crosses hers over her chest and shivers.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" I ask her as gently as I can, terrified that I've said or done something to ruin my chance with the woman of my dreams.

"Nothing. It's just . . . that's what I thought you'd say."

I try to figure out what the problem is. I told her what she wanted to hear, but it's also the truth, and it's also how I feel. There is nothing in the world that could ever make me stop loving my Alex. _Nothing._

"It's true, though," I say, a bit hesitantly.

She shakes her head, sighing again and rolling father away from me, burying her head in her arms.

Tentatively, I reach out to rub her back, but she cringes and jerks away.

That hurts, and the pain is made even worse because I don't understand what I did wrong. All I want is to be with her, to love her forever and always.

Then I think of something else, a book I used to read to myself over and over when I was a child. It's really a book that mothers read to their daughters, but my mother never read to me, so I would just repeat the words to myself whenever I was upset, whenever I wanted to assure myself that I was loved. I'd say the words softly and pretend it was my mother's voice saying them, rather than my own.

"I'll love you forever, Alex," I whisper, just loudly enough for her to be able to hear. I glance at her, trying to gauge her reaction, looking for recognition. Sure enough, it's there, and she's lying perfectly still, waiting. "I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my true love you'll be."

I hold my breath for a moment, but finally she turns back to face me. I'm expecting to read amusement in her eyes, even contempt, but there is none. Only _love_.

Finally, she smiles and echoes, "I'll love you forever. I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, _my _true love you'll be."

**Sorry if the ending kind of comes out of nowhere. I tried. I was reading that book to the kids I babysit for (it's their favorite – their mom always reads it to them before bed) and I just had this idea and changed it up a little. The book is called **_**Love You Forever **_**by Robert Munsch. I hope you liked the story. Please review; reviews always make my day!**


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